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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341029">never parted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/1848pianist/pseuds/1848pianist'>1848pianist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>forging destiny [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Book: Pani Jeziora | The Lady of the Lake, F/M, Fix-It, Geralt Loves Yennefer, Hurt/Comfort, POV Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Post-Canon, Reunions, Temporary Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:40:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29341029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/1848pianist/pseuds/1848pianist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yennefer wakes up alone and wonders if she's dead.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>forging destiny [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>A Very Yenralt Valentine</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>never parted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>angst and h/c. you know, for valentine's.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yennefer wakes with a gasp, air returning in a rush to lungs that have almost forgotten how to breathe. She’s winded, as if she’s been running for miles without pause. Her chest aches, raw and sharp and ragged, and she feels as though something inside her is broken irreparably. She wheezes painfully, trying to get her bearings and catch her breath.</p><p>She doesn’t know where she is or how she came to be there. Her last memories are a blank, a featureless blackness.</p><p>No—</p><p>She remembers the sight of blood, still red and oxygen-rich, staining her hands. She can hear herself scream, feel the rush of magic drain the life from her body. She feels him convulse under her touch, chocking as he died drowning in his own blood. Despite her magic. Despite everything.</p><p>Geralt…Geralt, bleeding the remainder of his life out, and her unable to save him. Yennefer heaves, but nothing comes up from her empty stomach.</p><p>She cannot fathom the reality of her loss. His absence. Even in times when she hated him, she could not imagine a world without him. Now she can only weep and curse him for acting so foolishly. What good was her magic, if it couldn’t save the ones she cared for? If it couldn’t save him? What has chaos ever done for her except brought her more pain and misery than she would have ever known if she had died a farm girl, pitied and detested, in Vengerberg?</p><p>The scream that tears its way from her throat ought to finish her, ought to cleave her in two, but somehow she remains whole, alone on this empty shore where she seems doomed to remain. Alone. Always alone.</p><p>She pulls herself to her feet and staggers forward. If this is to be her last act, then she will find whatever brought her here from Rivia, whatever took her from his side. Even with tears streaming down her face, even with her magic as inaccessible as it was at the beginning of her life, she will rend them limb from limb. And then, if there is anything beyond this empty place, she will see him once more.</p><p>She follows the coast at first, dragging herself over sandy, rocky ground, fighting her way through thick clumps of tall grass. Encountering nothing and no one, she tires of the shoreline and begins to climb the hill that faces the water. </p><p>Beyond this rise lies an orchard, which suggests to Yennefer that someone calls this gods-forsaken place home. She plucks an apple from a tree and studies it before letting it fall to the ground, uneaten. Is this death? Is she condemned to continue existing, always, without him?</p><p>She continues. Her mind goes blank except for a single sharp pain, every step a reminder of her failure. She should have been able to save him.</p><p>Her eyes catch a sudden flash of white among the green. For a moment she freezes, sure her mind is playing tricks on her. Then she rushes towards it, dropping to her knees beside Geralt’s body.</p><p>He’s lying with his head turned to one side, his hand on his chest, as though merely asleep. His hair is loose, his lips slightly parted. When she touches his face and presses her forehead to his, his skin is warm.</p><p>Gasping with relief, she sits up and runs her hands over his torso, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and a thick wrap of bandages where she expects to find bloody wounds. His heart beats beneath her palm, impossibly slow and steady as always.</p><p>He doesn’t stir, not even when she cradles his head in her arms and breaks into sobs of relief. Later she will wonder how he survived, who tended to his wounds and brought them to this place, but for now she can only cry. She was certain she had lost him.</p><p>Eventually, her tears run dry and she simply holds him close. Yennefer takes no notice of the time passing, for she would be content just to sit with him here until the world crumbled to dust. She runs her fingers over his face and memorizes the feeling of his skin, the scars and lines on the surface and structures of bone beneath it.</p><p>Suddenly, he twitches, groaning softly as he turns his face towards her touch.</p><p>Transfixed, Yennefer watches the subtle changes in his expression – first his mouth tightening as he registers pain, then his eyes softening as he makes out her face. Finally, a line of confusion appearing between his eyebrows as he struggles to identify their surroundings.</p><p>“Yen?”</p><p>She nods. “Shh. Stay still.”</p><p>He doesn’t listen to her, of course, still looking around them and trying to sit upright. She puts her hand on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down. The last thing she wants is him reopening his wounds, forcing them to relive the whole scene of his near-death once again.</p><p>When she’s confident he’ll stay still, she works her arm out from under his head so she can lie down beside him, face to face.</p><p>“Where are we, Yen?”</p><p>Not knowing the answer, she can only shake her head. She fears, somehow, that asking too many questions of this place, of how they came to be here, will render this all a dream. A mirage. Yennefer has had more than one lifetime’s worth of comforting illusions. She wants this—needs this—to remain real.</p><p>Geralt’s frown deepens. “Ciri…?”</p><p>“She’s not here.”</p><p>“But you are.”</p><p>“Yes. I am.” She reaches out to touch his face, tracing the ridge of his brow and the corner of his jaw with her fingertips. She needs to reassure herself that he’s real, that he won’t vanish if she closes her eyes.</p><p>Geralt’s eyes drift shut beneath her touch. “Yen?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“I didn’t think I’d see you again. I’m glad you’re here, wherever this is.”</p><p>She swallows hard, feeling her throat suddenly constrict. “You can’t get away from me so easily as that.”</p><p>“That’s good.” The hint of a smile plays at the corner of his mouth.</p><p>Yennefer shifts closer, curling her body around his as though she could protect him from further harm. He turns his head so that the ends of their noses almost meet and sighs, his breath warm on her face.</p><p>She rests her hand on his ribs, just above where the bandages stop. “Does it hurt?”</p><p>“Yes. But not so much as it should.” He places his hand on top of hers. “What about you?”</p><p>She shakes her head, confused. “I’m not hurt.”</p><p>“You tried to save me. You collapsed—”</p><p>“You remember?”</p><p>He nods.</p><p>“It didn’t work. I wasn’t good enough to heal you.” Tears spring to her eyes as Geralt’s fingers tighten around hers.</p><p>“Yen. You’re always good enough.”</p><p>“I wasn’t. You would have died.”</p><p>“But I didn’t. I’m here now. We both are.”</p><p>“Not by my doing.”</p><p>“Yen.”</p><p>When she looks up, his eyes are trained on her face, sincere and warm. Only the deep crease of worry between his eyes reveals his concern.</p><p>“I wasn’t enough,” she repeats.</p><p>Geralt shakes his head. “Yen, look at me.” He waits until she does before continuing.</p><p>“I love you, Yen, not just your magic.”</p><p>Unable to speak, she touches her forehead to his. He hums low in his throat.</p><p>“I nearly lost you,” she whispers.</p><p>“You didn’t.”</p><p>He smiles as he kisses her, a subtle movement of the corners of his mouth that make her respond in kind, flooded with relief to feel him warm and alive and breathing beside her. She would happily stay here forever, doing nothing but lying next to him in the grass.</p><p>“I love you,” she tells him as he strokes her hair. She so rarely says it to him first. Suddenly she can’t bear the thought that he might not know it with every fiber of his being. She leans over, kissing his collarbone, his jaw, his eyelids. “I love you. I love you.”</p><p>“I love you too. Don’t cry, Yen.”</p><p>Sobs shake her shoulders as the emotions of the past day flood her all at once, grief and joy and anger and pain and relief. It feels like more than her body can contain. Geralt kisses her hair and rubs her arm until her tears soak through his shirt. When she finally looks up, his eyes are wet, too.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t be. It’s all right.” He brushes her hair back from her face. “Help me up.”</p><p>She sees him grit his teeth as he moves, but with her arm around his waist he manages to sit upright. He exhales heavily, one hand automatically going to the bandages covering his wounds.</p><p>“Was this your work?” he asks. "The bandages?"</p><p>She shakes her head. “No. I suppose we’d better figure out where we are. And why.”</p><p>“Wait.” He covers her hand with his, holding it to his side. “Let’s stay here. Just a bit longer.”</p><p>“All right.”</p><p>She guides his head down to her shoulder, feeling his breath warm against her skin as he nestles into her. Wrapped in each other’s arms, leaning against one another, they watch as the sun begins to set.</p>
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